First Light
by Woodwind
Summary: It's early fall and a new teacher, Genna O'Neil, has come to Hogwarts. She is an empath, giving an alternative course in Elemantary Empathy; a subject considered by some magicians (like Severus Snape) to be less than "pure" magic.
1. Arrival

**Chapter 1: Arrival **

She was soaking wet as she tumbled inside. Her big boots made slushy sounds and left muddy pools on the stone floor. The castle was murky and the atmosphere somewhat subdued. It did not, however, have the feel of a haunted house, as she had feared, but rather like something out of time.

Genna let her hood drop and stroked a dripping strand of hair from her eyes. She heard a noise from outside and someone grumbling. Then a huge, stooped figure came through the door, carrying a couple of heavy trunks.

"I'm terribly sorry, Miss O'Neal, but I slipped and dropped one of your bags."

It was Hagrid, the teacher of Care of Magical Creatures and likewise caretaker of the Forbidden Forest. He had come to meet her at the station and taken her to the caste by stagecoach. Then he had gallantly insisted on showing her to her temporary quarters and carrying her luggage for her. He blushed through his wild, black hair and beard and looked guiltily at the grubby bag.

"Oh, that doesn't matter." She suppressed an impulse to ask whether _he_ was alright and decided against it; fussing would probably make him even more embarrassed. She smiled cordially at him.

"I appreciate all the help. I wasn't quite sure about how I would get here, since there is no road description anywhere."

Hagrid chuckled.

"Well, runnin' a school of witchcraft an' wizardry, we try to keep a low profile."

Genna smirked conspiratorially.

"So I see."

A robed figure strode down a flight of stairs. It was an old, gnarled man with silvery white hair and beard. A couple of bright, beady eyes gleamed behind crescent shaped glasses. He extended a frail-looking hand.

"I am principle Albus Dumbledore. Welcome to Hogwarts, Miss O'Neal."

She took his hand. The grip was surprisingly strong.

"Thank you. I'm delighted to be here. And, please, call me Genna", she said warmly.

"It is not every day I get to welcome a teacher of your department to this school." Dumbledore frowned and took on a puzzled expression; "Come to think of it, I do not think I have ever had the pleasure." He smiled. "It is most regrettable that you had to arrive in the midst of our most thunder intense season. I hope the journey was not all that uncomfortable?"

"Oh, not at all. I love stormy weather."

Dumbledore laughed. The sound was pleasant, Genna thought.

"Still, I am sure you must be tired. After all, it is long past midnight. I will escort you to your room and see that you get settled in."

Hagrid lifted the bags again but Dumbledore stopped him with a mild gesture.

"Thank you Hagrid, but that will not be necessary. You have done more than enough for one night. See that you get some rest now." Then Dumbledore raised his wand, made a delicate twist with his hand and pronounced the word "Locomotor". The bags rose from the floor and hung suspended in midair.

Genna said goodnight to Hagrid, thanked him again and followed Dumbledore up the flight of stairs. The bags followed suit.


	2. The first lesson

**Chapter 2: The first lesson**

The school bell rang soundly and the corridors became a chaos of students hurrying to their classrooms. Genna smoothed a wrinkle on her dress and waited behind the catheter as the pupils filed in. It was her first day, and she couldn't help being a little nervous.

Finally, all the children were seated and the soar died away.

"Hello, everybody. My name is Genna O'Neal and I'd like to welcome you all to the Elementary Course in Empathy. As you know, it's mostly a theoretical subject. You will learn the basic properties, the fundamental ethics and how to spot empathic manipulation."

She took them all in with a sweeping glance.

"Now, can anybody tell me what empathy means?"

One of the girls in the front row immediately shot her arm into the air.

"Yes, Hermione." She read the name from a name tag on her desk.

"Empathy", the young girl replied, "means emotional perception. An empath has the ability to sense another persons feelings."

"Very good, Hermione. That is correct."

The girl looked profusely proud.

"Historically, the phenomenon has been called "intuition" among mugglers and is still not recognised as a mental sense. In the world of wizards, empathic skill has long been considered less than pure magic, because of its fundamentally biological nature."

The girl who had spoken earlier was busily scratching down notes on a long piece of parchment.

"It's the belief of empaths, that everyone possesses the ability to some degree and is in effect also sensitive to emotional transfer. In its extension, it's the language of souls."

The final words left a dramatic silence.

"Yes, Hermione?"

"You are an empath, Professor O'Neal?"

"Yes."

"So that means that you can read our emotions?"

"Yes, I can."

There was a crash, as a red haired boy next to Hermione dropped a stack of books on the floor. He mumbled an excuse and dived under his desk to collect them.

"In theory", Genna went on. "Empaths are prohibited to scan other people without permission and we normally block the feelings around us. There are exceptions from the rules, of course, such as for therapeutic applications, educational use and self defence."

"Who's to say you don't ignore the rules?" The question came from a fair haired boy further back. There was a note of disdain in the voice and his gaze was cold and unimpressed.

Genna smiled benignly at him and ignored the fact that he had spoken without permission.

"It's a valid question, Draco. An untrained person might not be able to tell if he or she is under the influence of empathic manipulation, but with practice you should detect the intrusion of will. Most importantly, you must know yourself, what you believe in. Then you'll notice if your mind's been compromised. You'll detect the imposed will."

A chubby boy waved his heavy arm in the air.

"Yes, um... Crabbe?"

"Can you make someone cluck like a hen or howl like a wolf?" He sounded somewhat out of breath with excitement. There was scattered laughter and even Genna smiled broadly. Hermione Granger looked appalled.

"It isn't like hypnoses", Genna explained. The boy looked a bit disappointed. Evidently, he had hoped for a demonstration. "Maybe I could make you do something undignified if I could persuade you it's for a greater good."

"What _is_ empathy good for, then, if you aren't allowed to spy and you can't make someone do something useful?" It was Draco Malfoy who had spoken again.

"I wouldn't necessarily consider making someone mimic animal sounds _useful_. But empathy is a great art of defence. For example, if you want to disarm an enemy. It is, and now Genna's voice was sincere, "almost impossible to kill an empath."

Malfoy snorted.

"And to lie to one with deployed senses", she added.

"I think it's time for a small exercise", Genna said. "I'd like you all to pair up."

She waited as the children did as they were told. The red haired boy, who was named Ron Wesley, teamed up with a smaller boy with glasses. Genna read his name in passing: Harry Potter. She had heard of him, knew a little about his background. The flash-shaped scar on his forehead showed through his fringe of hair.

"Turn toward each other. I want you to think about the person in front of you. Look into their eyes, if that doesn't make you feel too awkward –we'll talk later about eyes as the windows of the soul and the effect of looking through them– and then think about something you like about this person. Write it down on a piece of parchment."

The pupils did as told. There was some squirming and giggling. Some felt embarrassed.

After a while, Genna said, "Now, exchange notes with each other."

This obviously caused additional discomfort among some. Genna observed the variety of reactions.

"Hey, you fat idiot, you were supposed to write something complimentary!" Malfoy exclaimed to Crabbe who had been very reluctant to hand over his note.

"Professor O'Neal, Crabbe hasn't followed instructions." Malfoy sounded furious and his manner indicated he demanded his partner to be punished.

Before Genna could respond, another heavyset boy on Malfoy's right, snatched the piece of parchment, read it out loud and burst into laughter.

"You wrote 'Malfoy smells like hippogriff poo." Doyle chuckled hysterically and the rest of the class joined in.

"Give me that!" Malfoy hissed madly, snatched the note back and tore it to shreds.

"Would you like to share with the class what you wrote about Crabbe, Draco?" Genna inquired innocently.

Malfoy's eyes shot her a vicious glare but he remained defiantly quiet.

"Well then, is there any other couple here that would like to read what they've written? I won't press the subject, if it's too personal."

Harry looked at Ron, who shrugged.

"Yes, Harry."

"I've written 'honest' about my friend Ron."

Ron blushed shyly.

"I've written 'brave' about Harry", Ron said, still blushing. He avoided looking at his teacher.

"That's a fine example. If you ever have an argument, you should remember what you've written about each other. You'll see that it will take the edge of your anger."

She went on. "Full empathic ability is rare. Only a very few possess the skill and it's inherited at birth. It cannot be taught. Especially not emotional transference. However, it's believed that the empathic gene is slowly spreading, both among mugglers and magi, and some theorists hold that one day all people will carry it. Can you think of any implications this might lead to?"

There was silence. Malfoy looked disgusted.

"Yes, Neville."

"There'd be no wars." He looked nervously around at the others.

Malfoy gazed at him with disbelief.

"That's an interesting thought, Neville. Would you care to elaborate?"

Neville looked like he was in pain.

"Ah... Well... If you knew exactly how your enemy felt, you'd understand him and maybe you... wouldn't be angry with him." Neville's voice became thinner by the second. "And," he whispered, "maybe you could find a more constructive solution than war."

Genna nodded thoughtfully.

"Very good, Neville. That is an interesting hypothesis."

Malfoy rolled his eyes while Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their books.

The lesson continued about how to use empathy in self defence.

"Always try to defuse anger with kindness and tolerance, if possible. There is very little true evil and most disputes arise from misunderstandings where anger is misguided. If someone is rude to you, it might be because they've had a bad day. So take the high ground and be better than them. Don't fight hatred with hatred."

The bell rang and the students started to put away their notes and books.

"I want you all to read chapter four and five until next time. There might be a quiz."

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Okey, I'm not too pleased with this chapter, but I'll submit it anyway... Personally, I think it's a bit corny, but I wanted to show some of Genna's values and what she's about. Tell me if it sucks;) –I'll probably make a bunch of changes to the text anyway.


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